


a chance encounter

by AllisonDiamond



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Gen, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Snarky Bucky Barnes, Snarky Tony Stark, merman au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-01 12:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllisonDiamond/pseuds/AllisonDiamond
Summary: When Tony stumbles in the Sirens' territory accidentally, he knows he is screwed, but when he gets saved by his very own guardian angel, he is overjoyed until he realizes what that all means: he's going to die.Or the fic:Where Tony is overly dramatic, chases Bucky away, thinks too much of death. 95% of never-ending crap, 3% of heading somewhere, 2% of overlying romantic themes.





	a chance encounter

**Author's Note:**

> I had the pleasure to work with Omaano and Blue on tumblr for the bang. Their art are included in the fic, and please click on the link, and show them love. :)
> 
> 3/4 of this fic is edited by the amazing folklejend on tumblr.

* * *

  ** _i_**

**(Art by me)**

It was cold, too cold. It was like a frickin’ winter wonderland down here.

That should have clued him in that something _was_ deadly wrong. It didn’t normally

get this cold in the ocean. He must have swam to the other side. _The forbidden side._

He shuddered at the thought.

He’d heard tales, _dreadful_ tales, of what happened to mermen when they _accidentally_ swam into forbidden territories. None of them had a happy ending. Those mermen were never heard from or seen again.

And he, Tony Stark, son of Howard and Maria Stark, the future King of _Jaded Rush_ , had stepped into the Siren’s territories.

Shit, he was screwed.

There was _no way_ he was coming out of this alive.

Shit, shit, shit.

He was _too young for this shit_. He had so much to live for. He had yet to explore the human world. There was no way he was _offering_ himself to the big, bad sirens.

Uh-huh. He was a Stark and Starks weren’t losers.

Tony circled around the cave, looking for an exit, but found the _only_ entrance out blocked by two big jaded black rocks, or he _thought_ they were rocks. He couldn't tell with the pitch black darkness in the dank cave.

Fuck. How did anyone live like this? Cold and blind. He couldn’t even picture himself living in this messy, smelly cave. He could never handle the smell of rotten flesh, piss, and death.

He _couldn’t._

He needed _fresh_ water, sweet-smelling lilies, and beautiful sea creatures to surround himself with.

Not _this_.

This was _hell_!

Fuck, what was wrong with sirens? How could they _think_ this was home?

Oh, lord, now he was feeling sorry for the monsters.

He shook his head and swam to the other side of the cave. _Oh, mother, is that a decaying corpse?_ It couldn’t be — that was, oh god, he wanted to throw up. Fuck. This was _nothin_ g like peaceful, beautiful _Jaded Rush._ This was the opposite — it was as if he had stepped into a horror show, like the ones Clint would show him when he roamed the sea for lost treasures.

Tony swallowed his fear and pressed his body against the rocks. The rocks were slimily, gross, and gods, smelled like shit. Tony scrunched up his nose and tried to keep the content in his stomach to remain there.

He pressed and pressed, but the rocks _wouldn’t_ move. Instead, he swore that they _growled_ , like they were some kind of monsters, but that couldn't be. 

They were _rocks._

Tony wasn’t having it. He _did not_ just press his body against two giant monsters. He couldn’t.

If he did, that would be crazy. He would be offering himself up as a free, quick meal. He _was_ n’t that stupid. He was a lot of things, but being stupid wasn't one of them.

When he heard the _rocks_ growl again, he thought, _shit, I’m screwed._ His eyes got wide and he could feel a panic attack coming. Shit, this wasn't good. Damn, he was so screwed.

He tried to calm his beating heart down, but it just went _ba-dum, thump-thump, ba-dum, thump-thump._

And if that wasn't bad enough, the monsters opened their eyes, and stared hungrily at Tony. 

Tony didn't know how he managed to do it, but he took his little fins and swam and swam as fast as they would take him.

He ended up slipping and falling on his ass so _many_ times in his attempts to escape from the bloodthirsty, _very much_ bloodthirsty eating monsters.

But his fins could only take him that _far_ , and he found himself trapped between the monsters and the corpse with no way out.

_Shit._

He gulped and smiled nervously. “C’mon, hunny, you _don’t_ want to eat me. I taste bad,” he let out nervously. The monsters continued growling at him. “I mean it. Seriously, my flesh is bad for your stomach. You’ll get bad stomach-ache if you eat me. Trust me, you don’t want that.” 

One of the monsters moved up close to him and breathed into his face, and it took everything in him not to throw up on its _slimy_ body. Then it started licking and tasting Tony, making little, deep sounds of satisfaction.

“Hunny,” Tony tried again, bottling the fear that was this close to rise up in him like magma in a volcano. “ _Grab_ me dinner first before you get physical. I _don’t_ appreciate that you think I’d give myself to a potential mate just like that, you know? A mer has to have priorities. I have to mate with the right _mer_ , or um—” He poked at the monster confusedly, trying to figure out what it was. Too bad, his lessons meant shit right now. “Whatever you are, you big, handsome beast!” He hit _it_ in the chest and laughed like a blushing merman in love.

That, of course, did shit. The monster only seemed to get even more up in his face. In fact, the other monster had somehow circled him from behind, and was sucking his neck, like a lover.

Gross. He was so grossed out and felt _so_ violated. No _ugly_ beast had the right to mark him up like that! That was for his potential mate!

But those two, very ugly beasts, monsters, whatever they were, were _marking_ him up like he was some sort of doll.

How dare they do that to him!

He struggled against them. Spinning his tail around them, hitting them with his fists, but they held him down like he was nothing.

He screamed and _screamed_ , knowing damn well that it was futile. 

When monster number one moved its purple, slimy tongue and plunged it in Tony’s mouth, Tony bit down on its tongue as hard as he can. It screeched, and that got monster number two’s attention, and it, too, moved away from Tony and screeched with its partner.

It was like hearing the cry of a whale, but much, much worse.

Tony moved his hands to his ears and swam away, but before he left, he turned away, and stuck his tongue at them while yelling, “Catch me if you can, suckers!”

Which was a bad idea, like worse than the time Clint left him stranded on an abandoned ship, and he got his revenge by hooking Clint on one of the nets the humans sent down.

The monsters teamed up and circled around him like he was dinner, which he probably was, but still.

“Hi, hunny,” he said, laughing nervously, “I didn’t mean to call you _suckers._ I meant to say honeysucklers ‘cause you’re my honeys, and you are both so sweet. Won’t you forgive your _honey_? Please.” He blinked and pouted. “I promise I’ll never do anything like that _ever_ again.”

They weren't having it, and instead one of them gripped Tony with its gigantic claws and lifted him up in the air.

“Air, hunny, need air,” Tony managed to say in a hoarse voice. He could feel the air leaving his body. His heart started hammering in his chest. “You can’t treat your honey like that.”

Monster number two grabbed his tail and pulled, and it hurt like a mother. Tony wasn't going to scream. He can feel his tail ripping. 

“Hunny, please, be a doll, and drop me down,” he said, biting down on his red, puffy lower lip to prevent the scream from coming out.

They didn’t.

Oh, lord, he was going to die, and it was all his fault. If he weren’t such a stubborn little jerk, none of this would have happened.

What would his dad think of him? Will his death break his mom’s heart? Will it send Jarvis to the healer? Will his bud Rhodes start a war? Will Clint join Rhodes?

He felt so lightheaded, so weak, and such a fool. So this was what dying felt like.

Oh god, he was dying because he _challenged_ these monsters.

Fuck!

His eyes felt on fluttering, and he could hear his heart coming to a stop. Soon, his lungs would collapse on him, and that would be it.

He would be dead.

And those two friends of his, monster one and monster two, were going to have a blast gulping him up like he was a yummy treat.

God, he was a yummy treat!

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , he chanted in his head, _you’re stupid, Tony. Why couldn’t you have listened and stayed for your frickin’ ball? Sure, you hated Hammer, but spending a few hours with him would have been so much better than dying._

Too bad he couldn't go back in time and change his life.

It was a done deal.

He would be dead soon.

He could feel the life slipping out of him bit by bit.

This was it.

When his eyes closed on him, he let them, and waited for the worst. But then, without any warning, he was dropped down, and he found himself staring in the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen in all of his twentieth year in the sea.   

“Hey, are you my guardian angel?” he asked weakly, reaching up to reach the handsome merman’s face, but the man looked at him sternly, as if he was personally scolding a child, that child being Tony. “‘Cause if you are, I’m glad I’m dead.”

The angel sighed and fluttered his gorgeous white wings, and picked up Tony in his hands. Tony nestled closer against the angel’s warm, comfy chest.

He took back everything he said about death.

Dying wasn’t so bad. He had his own, hot guardian angel. What else can a mer ask for?

* * *

  ** _ii_**

Bucky bandaged the young merman’s tail with some algae he found lying around in the corner. He hoped that the algae could prevent the mer’s tail from ripping farther. 

It wouldn’t take away the mer’s pain, but at least it would save him, if Bucky didn't screw up. He wasn’t one for curing — _that was Steve’s job,_ rescuing those on the near brink of death.

He didn't want to think about this sweet mer dying, but if he _hadn’t_ heard the mer’s cries for help, he wondered if the mer would still be alive right now. It would be a shame to take the mer away from the world so soon, especially since he was such a pretty thing.

Bucky didn't normally go for the sea-folks, but there was something about this merman that specially called for him.

The moment the mer glanced into his eyes, Bucky was _immediately_ intrigued at how strong and beautiful this young merman was. 

And when he spoke, it was honey and lavender, and it tugged at Bucky’s heartstrings. This mer was special, he could tell.

If the mer wasn’t currently on the brink of death, Bucky would have bedded him. He wasn’t one to say no to an attractive creature whether he or she was from the sky, the sea, or the land.

It was such a shame those awful creatures drained the life out of this exotic merman before Bucky even manage to get a taste.

A shame, indeed.

Poor mer.

So young to be _dying._

So beautiful to be in so much _pain._

Bucky wished he had Steve’s healing powers, but sadly, he didn’t. He couldn't take away the mer’s pain. 

They would have to wait and let nature take its course. Hopefully, nature would be a sweetheart and give the mer his life back.

With that in mind, Bucky took a seat down on the rock and watched as the mer moved his beautiful plush, red lips in pain.

_Such kissable lips._

He started to wonder how would those lips taste, how would it feel against his, if the merman would moan, or if he would faint in his arms.

_Nonsense, Bucky, don’t think about a charge like that! Sam wants you gone_ , he reminded himself, _since you screwed over all of your  previous charges. You're lucky he is giving you another chance_ , he reprimanded himself, _don’t screw it up. Remember what Stevie went through to get this charge for you!_

He forced the desirous, lustful thoughts out of his mind and continued caring for his charge. He placed a hand on the mer’s forehead, and found that it was sweaty and hot. _Oh, that ain’t good_ , he thought. He tore a piece of the algae and placed in on the mer’s head with the hope that would help him.

The mer whimpered in his sleep and started to shiver.

Bucky reached to comfort the mer, but the mer pulled him in, and he settled against the mer. 

He wasn’t fucking with the mer _nor_ did he intent to anymore. He was just helping him. Sam would understand that, won’t he? 

The mer seemed to immediately relax, and snuggled up against Bucky. Bucky threw an arm out, and pulled the mer closer to him, to which the mer responded very positively by moaning loudly. And what a beautiful sound it was. He wanted to hear it more.

No, no, he wasn’t going to fuck the mer. He was too young for Bucky’s taste, and also, he was too small. Bucky preferred his male partners to have some muscle on them, Steve being the exception. And they were never this close; the mer couldn’t be more than twenty. He _was_ too young and most likely inexperienced.

Bucky preferred his partners to know what they were doing. That wasn't to say that bedding an inexperienced virgin every once in a while was bad.

He had nothing against sweet, innocent virgins, but they were too sweet, and he _didn’t_ want to break them in.

He preferred to have a partner who wanted a quick fuck rather than some magical moment.

And that was _hard_ when it came to virgins. Sometime, they wanted to get it over with, and that was more than okay with him, but there were times when they wanted him to _bond_ with them. That was where he drew the line; he wasn't ready for that kind of commitment. He might never be. Tying himself down to just one creature seemed like such a foolish idea when there were so much more exotic creatures to explore.

And this mer looked like he would be the type to want all that lovey-dovey nonsense.

Bucky shook his head and absentmindedly ran his hands through the young mer’s luscious brown curls.

It hadn't dawned on him how _right_ it felt to have the mer pressed up against him.

But why would it?  


Love was _lost_ to him.

And he was only here to _care_ for the mer, give him a speedy recovery, and dump him back to his people.

He _wasn’t_ here to question his views on love.

He _wasn’t_ here to fall powerless to the mer’s beauty.

He _was_ n’t here to form a connection with said mer.

He _wasn’t_ here to imagine a life with this gorgeous mer.

He _wasn’t here_ to do any of those things.

Sam would _never_ send him on a journey to discover love.

Sam might not have respected Bucky’s views on love, but he would never stoop that low.

Then why _was_ he thinking so much of the mer currently curled up against him?

* * *

  _ **iii**_

Tony came around to the smell of something wonderful, like lilies and that sweet-smelling fragrance the humans bottled up in a bottle.

He hummed, satisfied, as he fluttered his beautiful dusty purple eyes open, and found himself staring at a very muscled, toned chest.

**(Art by me)**

“Hey, angel,” he muttered sleepy, too lazy to move away from his comfortable position. “You _saved_ me.”

His companion looked down at him and flashed the biggest, brightest smile, and his heart almost skipped a beat. This angel was beautiful and all his. His very own guardian angel.

But why did he need a guardian angel and why did he hurt all over?

Everything was a blur. The last thing he remembered was that his angel saved him from some monsters, and swept him up in his strong, muscular arms, like he was some fragile mer, and that was more than okay with him.

But other than that, he was drawing a blank.

Like why did he need saving? And why did an angel come down in the sea to rescue him? And the monsters… Did they do anything to him? They must have, or his guardian angel wouldn’t be down here.

He remembered that mers always met _their_ angels when they were dying.

Wait, did that mean that he was dead?

Shit, he _was_ too young to die.

And his parents — how would they cope losing their only son like that?

_No!_

It couldn't be.

He shoved himself off the angel’s chest and started swimming around. He _couldn’t_ be dead. He just _couldn’t_ be dead.

A sharp pain emerged from his tail and knocked the wind out of him. _Fuck_! He nearly collapsed onto the ground, but the angel caught him in his arms, and held on to him, as if there was no tomorrow. The angel then spread his wings out and covered Tony up. It was so comfy, so warm, and Tony didn't want to give it up.

But he did.

Or tried to.

The angel’s wings were _too_ tight, _too_ strong, and _too_ damn unbreakable.

Tony groaned and stood there feeling like a goddamn puppet. 

“Will you calm down?” the angel said sweetly, and Tony felt the air knocked out of him. The angel’s voice was like waking up on a cold, misty morning. “You will hurt yourself, doll. You’re in no shape to be movin’ around.”

Tony scoffed. “It doesn’t matter, _doll,_ ” he said snidely. “I’m dead already. What’s the use? You just came down here to give me false hope! Some kind of _guardian angel_ you are. If you weren’t so damn irresistible, and I _wasn’t_ dead, I’d feed you to the sea urchins! But seeing how _very_ dead I am, I guess that’s out of the question!”

The angel laughed so loudly that it bounced right off Tony. 

_Not cool._ That wasn’t cool at all. Tony wanted to wipe that perfect smile off his perfect face. Damn him for giving Tony _hope_ , and taking it back that soon!

“Oh, darlin’,” the beautiful, snarky bastard said in between laughs, “You’re somethin’ else. This is what you think death is? You really believe you would die _here_ in this piss poor cave hurtin’ so much? Darlin’, that ain’t death. Death is a _much_ more seductive act, and that ain’t my job. It’s the grim reaper’s, and I am sure as hell not _‘Tasha._ ”

Tony scoffed in frustration. The bastard was playing with his emotions. Telling him all of this nonsense. He might not be an angel, but he sure as hell knew what this was. An angel _wouldn’t_ visit him if he wasn't dead, and he was dead as they came.

God, Tony had never hated anyone this _fast_ , this _quick_ , as he did this angel, and fuck, he was so turned on right now.

What the heck was wrong with him?

He wouldn’t bare his neck for the very, very _, hot_ angel. He _wouldn’t_ give his ass to said angel. That was reserved for his mate, and this smug bastard so _wasn’t_ his mate. Well, since he was dead, his ass was never going to see any action. All because of the angel who would rather stand there and watch him die than help him!

Was it wrong of him to judge his friggin’ guardian angel this soon?

Probably.

Did he care?

No.

It wasn't fair. He was too young to die! Fuck, he’d never fucked anyone! It wasn’t friggin’ _fair!_ He deserved better than this. He’d never had the chance to fall in love, like his parents.

That angel took all of that away from him!  


Okay, it wasn't fair to _blame_ him, but still, if it weren't for him, Tony wouldn’t have been so furious right now. He would have accepted his death. But no, the beautiful bastard had to arrive and give Tony hope.

He was the reason Tony was going through all of this crap.

God, he hated the beautiful, smug bastard!

Fuck him!

He hoped that when he came down again to claim another unsuspecting mer, that the sea monsters got him. He deserved to die a slow painful death.

After what he promised Tony, it was only fair that he suffered, too. He promised Tony hope and freedom, but he took all of that away by _showing up_. He shouldn't have showed up in the first place.

Tony was _dead_. Why did the beautiful, smug bastard had to rub it in?

Tony was the one who died, not him. He was never going to experience any of the wonderful things he wanted to do in his life. That jerk-face still had the chance to do _everything_ Tony ever wanted to do in life, and so much more.

“Darlin’, I don’t understand why you’re gettin’ worked up over nothing?” The angel chuckled lightly. “You shouldn't be stressin’ yourself up like that. It won’t help with your healin’.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s what you want, isn’t it?” Tony screamed. “To see me _struggling?_ Do you get a kick out of it, darlin’? Do you? Does it make you feel special that you _have_ the power to save people? DOES IT! It must ‘cause you saw me dying and you flew in like my savior and what did you do, oh—“ He shaped his lips into the perfect ‘o’ shape. “Yeah, you came to _collect_ me and send me to the _afterlife._ That must be so much fun for you!”

“Sweetheart, you _ain’t_ dead, but you will be if you keep on behavin’ like this,” the angel said softly, rolling his eyes. “And I don’t _wanna_ see you dyin’. You are too pretty to die.”

“Oh, take your fake condolences and get out of here!” Tony glared at him heatedly. He _hated_ how much this angel had taken away from him, and how _nonchalant_ he was acting about it. “I’m dead! You’ve taken away everything from me!”

The angel sighed. “I haven’t taken away anything from you, darlin’. You need to _relax_. This isn’t good for you.” He smiled. “And darlin’, I’m Bucky, and if you work with me, we can get you home soon. I know you’re scared and hurtin’ right now. But I can help you get better. Let me help you, that’s all I’m askin’.”

“Fuck you,” Tony let out, squirming in the angel— _Bucky’s_ grip. What kind of name was that? Not that Tony cared. He didn't care for the _egotistical, jerk face, bastard_ at all. “Let me go! I can explore the afterlife by myself! I don’t need your friggin’ help!”

Bucky sighed and released Tony from his hold. Tony fell on the ground, and he felt so cold, so weak, and so dizzy from the lost of contact. He didn't need that _jerk_. He was fine.

“As you wish, darlin’. If you need me, I’m a call away.” Bucky pulled his wings in and his blue eyes gleamed with delight. “I trust you to take care of yourself. I don’t want to come back here _savin’_ you again from yourself.”

“Bastard,” Tony muttered under his breath and started to swim away.

Bucky laughed and Tony wanted him to shut him.

He _hated_ that beautiful, smug bastard so damn much!

He can go through the afterlife by himself, thank you very much.

“And darlin’?” Bucky folded his arms across his chest.

“What?” Tony said irritatedly. He hated _Bucky_ so much already. Who the hell did he think he was? He _wasn’t_ that special. He was lucky he _was_ hot, and powerful, or Tony would have _hurt_ him very badly.

“You _ain’t_ dead,” he ended on a teasing tone. 

“Fuck you!”

Tony swam away as fast as he could even though it _felt_ like his fins were on fire. He didn't care. He _was_ n’t going to stand another second in _Bucky’s_ company.

That bastard just wanted to watch him burn.

Too bad for him that Tony was stronger than he looked.

And when Tony met the other angels, oh, the things he would tell them about their _so-called_ friend.

And when _Bucky_ was out of a job, Tony would sit back in the afterlife, sipping some of that fancy drink humans consumed and laughed, as the bane of his existence got stuck doing some _awful_ , crappy job for the rest of his life.

* * *

**_iv_ **

 It was foolish to think that an angel would _actually_ come down to save him.

Hah, that idea alone was full of _fish piss._

Angels only come down to ruin mers' lives — they had nothing else _better_ to do! 

Tony swam around angrily; his fins turning a sickly pink color rather than their enchanting purple. He was _so_ frickin’ angry. The nerves that heart-stealer, beauty-rocker, tongue-thief had, talking to Tony like that! He was the fuckin’ Prince of _Jaded Rush_ , not some _newborn_ to be smothered and talked down to!

That perfect angel and his perfect, sculptured face — _ugh_ , Tony was going to _kill_ him. Wait, he _couldn’t_ , because the _ass_ was **_a_** , more powerful and stronger than him, and **b** , he was still breathing, contrary to Tony’s _non-breathing_ , dead self.

Gosh, he was dead, and he didn’t even had a chance to prove that Hammer was a _bastard_ and should be banished from the sea!

And it was all that angel’s fault!

Why did he give Tony hope? Didn’t he know that the last thing a mer needed near his or her deathbed _was_ hope? No mer wanted to be given false hope.

Heck, no living creature wanted false hope.

Oh, the seas, he was overreacting. That angel ( _Bucky, was it?_ ) had been nice and pleasant to Tony for the most part, even if at times he had too much fun getting Tony all riled up.

Maybe he should have stayed back.

He knew shit about the afterlife. Bucky, on the other hand, knew _everything_ about it! Also, it didn't help that he hurt everywhere from his lips to his fins. Moving alone was a struggle. With every flick of his tail, he felt like he was this close to falling in a deep slumber, never to be woken again.

Oh, by the moons, he never knew that being dead would hurt this much. He always believed that it was what it was, you lived and you died. That was the life of the sea.

Yet, he felt as if a thousands of tiny fishes were eating him alive.

How can death hurt so much?

It didn't make any sense, but it was what it was, and Tony had to accept it. It didn't help that he had to move around so much, and would continue doing. How else was he supposed to find _his special ‘world’_?

Not by asking that angel!

Gosh, would it have been so bad to stay with that angel—Bucky? He was warm and Tony instantly relaxed in his presence. Well, that was until he realized what _Bucky’s presence_ entailed.

_Stupid, stupid! You’re stupid, Tony! Why must you have a fit over everything? That’s why you’re dead._ He wanted to bang his head hard against something. Anything. Just to remind himself never to get riled up about stupid things again.

Then he remembered he was dead, and that wasn't something he had to worry about ever again.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault he was dead — it was Tony’s and his alone. He had wandered off into forbidden territory, and hadn’t thought twice about it.

If he hadn't been so damn reckless, he would still be alive today, and he would have been at his ball, dressed in the finest gems, with a beautiful flower crown of white lilies on his head. And then when his ball got to be too much for him, he would have snuck away and visited Clint, and they would have gone exploring and drank some ale Clint had stolen from the humans.

But he had been reckless, and now he was never going to have the chance to do all of that  ever again.

Oh, he hated himself so much.

He really had gone and screwed this one up. There was no return from this. Death was final.

_Fuck!_ He slowed down when he started to see stars, and squeezed his eyes shut when he heard a ripping sound coming from his tail. _That wasn't good_ , he thought, breathing heavily, as the pain rode through him, like a heavy storm.

He leaned back and rested against a rock, panting heavily. He wasn't going to survive this. He wasn’t even going to make it to the afterlife.

Bucky was right. He was in no condition to be _going_ anywhere. He should have stayed there and rested.

And now he wasn't sure what would happen to him, and that thought alone terrified the fins off him.

What could be worse than death?

Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh, he was going to disappear! He started to panic, his face wet and red with fever. How long would it take before he was gone forever?

What if he never made it into the afterlife? 

Oh dear, this … _oh_ seas, he had screwed so badly in his twentieth crown that he hadn’t even made it into his own little personal heaven.

He had _nothing_.

He was going to become sea foam.

He was just going to turn to dust.

This was how he was going to end.

Tony Stark, son of Howard and Maria Stark, future King of Jaded Rush, was going to be immortalized in the sea forever in the worse possible way.

And with that in mind, his body went limp, and he fell _miles_ deep into the ocean, and he didn't even care when the life was sucked out of him.

He was _dead_ already. What good would it do to vex himself over his future when he had none?

Tony Stark was foam dust.

And there was nothing he could do to change that.

* * *

  ** _v_**

_Damn!_

What was the damn mer— _Tony_ — thinking letting himself drown like that? Bucky spread his wings open, and swooned down, catching the stupid, dumb mer before he plunged to his death.

** _([Art ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12737001)by Blue -- tumblr [here](http://blue-pointer.tumblr.com), a03 [here,](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer) check them out!)_ **

_Damn_ , Bucky thought, struggling to hold on to the mer since he kept on squirming in his hold, _why the hell did he leave his charge alone in his current state?_

His eyes went _silver_ — so many dark and dangerous thoughts ran through him —and it caused his wings to close up on him, and it sent him and Tony flying into the air.

_Fuck_! He let out a yelp, as the excruciating pain of him wings collapsing into his back made his blood ran _hot_ and his skin got so tight. He felt as if he was being sucked into the darkest pits of hell _again_.

_Don’t do this to yourself_ , Bucky warned himself, and took a very brief look at his charge’s pained expression, and how he kept on curling into himself, _you aren’t there anymore, and this gorgeous mer is suffering. Help him._

He breathed heavily and ignored the deep saturating pain in him. He forced his wings to come out again, and didn’t scream when his _skin_ almost broke at the contact. 

He had went through so much worse, had his wings almost cut out of him, and that had hurt like a bitch. It wasn’t until Stevie _healed_ again that he could actually fly again.

He should have known that he _wasn’t_ ready to take a “leap” in the sky again. It didn’t matter. His charge—Tony— needed him, and damnit, he was _not_ going to let this gorgeous mer die in his care.

He will have to get Stevie to look at his wings once he dropped Tony to his—Bucky’s home, and that was going to go oh, so well. 

Ugh, he wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to hear another one of Stevie’s lectures of how he should stop pressuring himself to go out there. He should stay and rest. 

As if _Sam_ , the gods bless his soul, would ever allow his _favorite troublemaker_ angel to do such a thing.

That got a good laugh out of Bucky: a deep, back-in-the-throat, in-and-out-of-the-body kind of laugh. And he regretted almost instantly when a new batch of sweet hell rose up in his oh, so lovey, wondrous wings.

Bucky regretted now than ever, he never _earned_ his healing power, because he was too busy fucking the teacher. Bucky couldn’t have stopped it even if he wanted to. 

With those sweet eyes, that cherry-flavored, full lips, that rounded face, that _curvy_ ass, that angel was dying to be fucked. And it didn’t help Bucky when he flaunted his gorgeous body to Bucky, almost silently pleading to be fucked.

Bucky obliged and fuck him, but it was the worse mistake of his life, as it cost him everything in the end. Because of that, he was _immediately_ thrown out of heaven, and Hydra soon found him afterwards.

One stupid mistake and it cost him his life.

What a fuckin’ joke!

Bucky let out a sigh. That was all in the past now. Stevie rescued him but Hydra was still there, still dragging innocent souls in the darkest pits of hell. It wasn’t like _they_ could get rid of the devil; the world needed the fuckin’ devil to survive. Ain’t that a breath of fresh air?

And it _frustrated_ Bucky that he can’t do a damn thing to stop any creatures from experiencing the kind of hell he went through when Hydra brainwashed him and changed him from a fuckin’ angel to the fuckin’ devil.

Oh, well, that—Hydra continuing to exist— _was_ what the gods wanted, and Bucky was just a fuckin’ angel,so he couldn’t go against their rules.

Such was his life. A load of bullshit, he would say.

But this _mer_ — this cute, fiesta darlin’ — currently on the brink of death in his arms, he can do something about that. He can _still_ save him and the gods can say nothing about that. 

Hell, ‘Tasha _won’t_ collect Tony, if Bucky reasoned with her.

Oh, heavens, he was already planning the mer’s death, without even knowing if he was actually in grave danger or not.

Lords!

_Stop thinkin’!_ he warned himself, _you are goin’ to hurt yourself thinkin’ so damn much about heaven and hell, and this cute darlin’ in your arms._

And so he did.

Or tried to.

The thoughts never left him, and continued plaguing him, forcing him to relive the darkest, dreary memories of his one hundred and four years of existence.

But occasionally, he would glance at _Tony_ , and when he saw the mer’s peaceful face, it made his heart grow fonder on all of the good things in his life. He knew it was irrational to _feel_ this calm and good from just glancing at a mer whom he had just met, but it brought this warm, bubbly feeling in him, and no one, not even Stevie, had been able to make him this _content,_ like if the worse parts of half his life didn’t exist.

It _was_ good. 

He didn’t know why he _connected_ so quickly with Tony. He supposed he didn’t really connect with the mer, but he _felt_ this tug, this pull, toward him, and gods help him, he didn’t want to lose him.

Lords, he was all kind of messed up.

Bucky laughed. “I ain’t know what you doin’ to me, kid, but I hope to understand,” he whispered quietly against the blowing winds. “‘Cause you need to bloody explain to me why you make me feel so damn weird.”

Tony said nothing, but the calm look left his face, and once again, he started squirming and kicking in Bucky’s hold.

“That ain’t a good explanation, my cute, feisty darlin,” Bucky said, watching as the dark skies faded away, as the white palace came into focus. 

_Thank gods for that_ , he expressed his gratitude, landing him and Tony both safely on the white sand — _what was Stevie going for this time?_

**_ * _ **

Bucky let himself relax just for a little bit. His wings _ached_ so terribly. He wondered how bad the damage to them was?

Slowly but carefully, he pulled a part of it toward him, and examined it. It _was_ still white, that was good. It still sparkled, also good. But that _strike of black_ frightened him — it _was_ the sign of a fallen angel.

He _wasn’t_ a fallen angel — he was reinstated. Sam made sure of that. But seeing the black seeping into his wings, he wondered if that wasn’t true.

Ah, that didn’t matter. 

He laid back and enjoyed the feel of the sand beneath his bare feet. That was most wondrous. Stevie really knew how to choose the scenes.

Last time, it had been a tropical paradise. This time, it was the enchanting white palace surrounded by white, decorative sand.

Sharing a _home_ with Stevie was always so wonderful. He always made their home magical and beautiful. Sometimes, Bucky wondered if Stevie only did those things, because he had no one special in his life.

It didn’t matter. If it truly did bother Stevie, he would have known. There was no secret between them; they shared everything even Bucky’s long list of bedding partners, something that Steve would much rather not know about.

Bucky brushed off the thought, and curled up against Tony’s form, laying perpendicular to him, so that Tony’s tail had ample room to stretch out.

It was a gorgeous tail, golden with a speck of red in it, with a set of beautiful fins to accompanied it. Bucky wondered how it would feel against his hands. He only had a slight glimpse of that feeling when he had bandaged Tony’s tail with that dreaded algae. 

His hand wavered a bit before it landed on Tony’s tail. Oh, it felt _so_ smooth, and oh dear, boiling hot. That wasn’t good. There were red flags around that.

And when he brought his hand back, it was covered with a red, dark liquid. Blood. 

Bucky was perplexed by this. How could that be? He _didn’t_ see any injuries on the tail. It looked normal. It looked healthy. It looked absolutely fine.

It looked nothing like the first time Bucky saw it. There was no slit in the middle, slight as it had been, but deadly nevertheless. There was no bruising or dark flesh. It was fine, which meant, the injury had to be internal.

Oh. That made… _sense_? What was the cute darlin’ doing in that cave?

Bucky shook his head. He wiped his hands off his pants, and leaned in closer, watching the rise and fall of Tony’s chest. So memorizing. Bucky was stuck in an almost trance kind of state. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Tony even if he wanted to, not that he wanted to, of course.

He licked his dry lips and hovered his hand over Tony’s chest _hesitatingly_ almost as if he was afraid to touch him, as if something bad was going to happen if he did so.

Eventually, his wariness died off, and his hand dropped on Tony’s chest softly. Oh, the skin was warm, soft-to-the-touch, and it added fire to his groins. And the soft, short brittle dark hair on Tony’s chest — it felt like touching soft fur. Bucky’s hand trailed further up, and he found himself _touching_ one of Tony’s soft, pink, sensitive nipples. It was so responsive and immediately darkened, and Tony whimper slightly.

Oh gods, the things Bucky wanted to do to this beautiful mer beside him, but he stopped himself before he did something stupid that he would regret later on.

Instead, he settled to just watching Tony, and trying to comfort him when he cried out in pain.

That was _more_ than enough for him.

Bucky had to roll over on his side to get that painful dent out of his silk, red satin baggy pants.. It _didn’t_ work, of course, and his head got buried in the sand, just for a short while, before he resurfaced up.

He choked and he closed his mouth, trying to resist the fit of coughs he could feel coming from the back of his throat. 

That didn’t help.

He immediately opened his mouth and started coughing up a storm, spitting some of the sand out. Gods damn it, the sand looked pretty enough, but it tasted like wet, soggy laundry.

Tony started to move even more in his sleep, flailing his hands around like crazy on the sand, almost as if he was beating it. His breathing became erratic. 

Bucky didn’t take notice of it right away, but once he did, he rushed to Tony’s side immediately, and started to shake him gently at first, but much more frantically later on.

“Darlin’, it’s just a dream,” he said soothingly, hoping to calm Tony down, but it didn’t work. Tony only kept on struggling and he started to _turn_ a sickly blue color. “Don’t let it get to you. I promise it will pass soon.”

Tony started to scream.

“Darlin’,” Bucky tried again, voice louder this time, but still calm and reassuring.

“ _W…waaa_ ,” Tony started to say hoarsely, eyes still closed, and forehead beaded with sweat. “Pl…..eease. Can’t b…bre…brea…breathe. N…neee…need wa…waa…waater,” he said, almost whispering, and Bucky couldn’t make out a word he said.

“Darlin’.”

Bucky didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t help Tony — he can’t bloody well heal him!He didn’t know how to fix this. Lords, he was going to lose him.

_No, he couldn’t._ Wouldn’t let that happen. He had to do something.

This can’t be the way it ended for Tony — Bucky wasn’t going to let end this way!

* * *

  ** _vi_**

Breathe.

_Breathe._

**Breathe.**

Tony couldn’t breathe. It was like when he spent too much time in the outside world. But he didn’t … he _can’t_ remember the last time he went there?

Surely, this _couldn’t_ be the way it felt when your life was sucked out of you, and you turned to dust? Was this how it felt to be turned into sea foam? He _wasn’t_ too sure.

Maybe it was.

It probably was.

He really was dying!

He wanted to laugh but he couldn’t. His mouth _wouldn’t_ move; it was sewn shut. And his lips…they _hurt_ so much, much worse than the time that the common menfolks thew rocks at him, and one of them went straight to his lips.

Oh, he _knew_ dying hurt a lot, but he didn’t imagine it would hurt this much.

He wanted to move, to go somewhere cooler, but he _was_ strapped down by — a strange smell hit him — was that sandflowers? 

Why was he being strapped down by sandflowers? They weigh nothing, and while he liked the familiar smell of home, he didn’t want to smell _sandflowers_ right now. His mom always used to dress his hairwith sandflowers when he was younger.

_He dazzled like her darlin’ mer child_ , she used to say, _all the mermaids and mermen were going to so envious of her sweet child._

** _([Art ](http://omaano.tumblr.com/post/167531454018/i-want-to-see-the-hands-of-those-who-seriously)by Omaano -- tumblr [here](http://omaano.tumblr.com), go check it out!)_ **

They never were, he wanted to tell her, but how could he tell his mom that? How could he tell her that they treated him as if he was the best frigging to happen to the sea because of his name and not who he was?

He _couldn’t_ …she wouldn’t understand. She wasn’t born highborn. He was. She wasn’t Howard Stark pride and joy. He was.

He loved his mother to death, but there were things she would never understand. She _was_ glad to be a Queen. And Tony, well if he had his way, he would leave the damn ocean, and the damn Kingdom, and be somewhere else where he could _actually_ do something than just sit there and be pretty.

Invent things. Make mer-life so much easier. Show merfolks that they didn’t have anything to fear from the outside world. 

But Howard never let him because he had once been a genius inventor, who wanted change, but Tony’s grandmer wouldn’t let him. 

Sometimes, he really hated his dad for blaming him for _every_ bad thing in his life. He wasn’t even born yet! So how can he be blamed for his grandmer’s actions? 

He _couldn’t_.

Didn’t matter to his _dad_ , though. He was such a dick.

Tony supposed, being a King to the entire Kingdom of Jaded Rush, did that to a mer.

_Hah, you really do think about your family when you died_ , he thought. Wow, he really was dying. Just because he established that fact didn’t mean he wanted to believe it.

But there was a _sound_ , a warm, melodious sound, and it seemed to be _calling_ out to him? Was that the grim reaper coming to collect him?

Ooh, what a delight? That _angel_ —Bucky—had said that death was a seductive act. So, maybe, she was calling him with her melodious voice? 

But it didn’t _sound_ like a maiden’s voice — who was he to say how a maiden sounds like? Maybe the grim reaper took on different forms.

Who knew?

Well, this was it. Tony prepared himself for the worse. Oh, the seas, why couldn’t he see a damn thing? Wasn’t there _at least_ a carriage with a pumpkin at the end when every mer died?

Jarvis, his butler, before he passed, told him of this.

Ugh! Was Tony going to be the only mer to experience a death in complete darkness? Figures. He was just so gosh darn unlucky.

First he went into the stupid siren’s territory, met those amazing husbands of his, then that _striking_ angel, his friggin’ own guardian angel, but then because he was stupid and stubborn, he pushed away his guardian angel. Who did that?

Maybe, just maybe, if he hadn’t been so _riled up_ by the angel—Bucky—and what him being there meant, he might still have a change of being fuckin’ alive right now.

Oh, by the gods, he wasa frickin’ idiot.

Oh well, let Tasha do her worse. Tony wasn’t going to go down without a fight. He was a Stark and Starks were born fighters, not cowards.

And so he uncurled himself, tried to push the damn sandflowers (he was pretty sure it wasn’t “sandflowers” holding him) and waited for _her_ to get closer.

She _didn’t._

And it felt like a lifetime since he heard her melodious voice.

What was she doing? Was she willingly leaving him to stay here in so much friggin’ pain? Did she like that? 

Was Bucky lying to him? Gods damn, and to think, he believed the bastard wasn’t so bad after all. 

_Okay, don’t leave me hanging_ , he shifted his hands uncomfortably in the _sand_ — wait, sand wasn’t this coarse down in the sea.Was he on land?

Tony wanted to shake his head in frustration, but how could he when his head felt as if it was going to fall off any second now?

Why was this his life? 

Was she really this unfair? She couldn’t let him die in the sea? She had to make sure he died on land. Don’t get him wrong, he loved land, but he was a creature of the ocean, and damnit, he wanted to die there in the frickin’ sea.

_Oh well._

There was nothing he could do about it. Better well suck it up.

So he waited and waited and nothing happened. The pain got worse, so much worse, like getting ripped to shreds, but no carriage came, no woman dressed in red arrived.

What was going on?

Maybe he wasn’t dead yet. Maybe she was waiting until his condition got worse. He couldn’t see it getting any worse than this. Getting ripped to shreds was _so_ not a pleasant feeling.

But who knew? Maybe there was a worse pain he needed to experience… _oh, wait, that’s right_ , he wasn’t going to go in the afterlife. 

So maybe she didn’t need to come down for mers turning to sea foam.

_Of course_! Tony thought, desperately wanting to do a dramatic eye roll, but his stupid, weak body wouldn’t agree with him. 

Oh, what a great time to be alive!

Gods damn, what was up with _those sandflowers?_ They kept on dragging him down. And what was that… was that a _pair of lips_ on his? 

So, she finally came, and with that, Tony felt his _gills_ working again, but he was too tired to think about it, and instead let eternal sleep took over him completely when it arrived. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://neenabthurman.tumblr.com)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fanart for A Chance Encounter by AllisonDiamond](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737001) by [blue_pointer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer)




End file.
